


Three's Company

by hopeless_romantic_spoonie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_romantic_spoonie/pseuds/hopeless_romantic_spoonie
Summary: An intimate moment with you, Steve, and Bucky.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 142





	Three's Company

**Author's Note:**

> I know I don't normally write for these two, but this dream popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone.
> 
> Thank you to yespolkadot_kitty for giving this a quick peek before I posted!

Metal and vanilla. Salt and mint.

Surrounding you and filling your nose buried in sweat-dampened brown locks that brush against your cheekbones. Teasing at your tongue from kisses delivered hot and needy and fast to plush pink lips swollen from your attentions.

Too many hands. Cold fingers tease down between the peaks of your breasts to caress your stomach - anticipation catching hold, tightening your breaths into gasps. Caressing every inch of your skin until your body sings with want and you don’t know where you end and they begin. Tentative touches curl along your jaw to turn you into him.

_Steve._

He’s slow and languid. Devouring you with the lazy licks of his tongue that split you open and drink your easy pleasure into the pleased rumble in his chest. Your fingers curl around the flexed bicep of his arm to drag him down into the depths of your lovemaking, arching against the soft hair on his broad chest to chase his smiling mouth with the nip of your teeth that makes his breath stutter in his throat.

_Bucky._

He’s fast and hard. Sizzling your skin with the drag of his tongue down your navel, swirling in the dip of your belly button before kissing at the arch of your hip bones. Holding you captive with the passion in his steel-blue eyes that demand you watch his grin disappear between your fluttering thighs. Pinning you down with hands fire and ice that scorch your skin as he spells out his craving for you with the curl of his tongue right _there_ \- the ache that throbs and weeps glistening need for him.

For _them_.

You shatter into a million pieces from the graze of his teeth, fireworks dancing behind your eyes, and your Captain lovingly stitches you together again, his heart beating a fast drum against your back and his hands dragging along the length of your sides. You taste the tawny scruff softening his chin and reach behind you to anchor yourself to these rumpled sheets with your fingers tangling in his golden blond hair. He’s been growing it out, and you tug him to the arch of your shoulder when Bucky purrs your name against your pulsing core.

“So sweet, doll.”

Sheathed iron in velvet stretches and fills until your euphoria spills from your lips in gasps and mewls delivered against the hammering pulse in Steve’s throat. You’re pushed against the familiar strength of his chest with each punishing thrust, and the rut of his hips into the swell of your ass pushes your hips right back into Bucky’s stilling hands.

Murmured words of praise against your skin. Always praising you, Steve. An endless string of _”perfect”_ and _”yes”_ and _”fuck, beautiful”_. Such a sharp word on soft lips, paired with the lust darkening his sky blue gaze as he watches you get utterly _fucked_ , is heaven and hell twined together in one package that has you writhing against his sweat-dampened chest.

“Such a pretty thing, taking his cock. Such a good girl for us.”

You’re drunk on the lurid sounds of sex echoing about the room. Head swimming and body undulating between two men sent to swallow you with their love. Skin against skin, sticky and slick with want, grunts against the shell of your ear and panted moans delivered with the duck of a head against the rolling tops of your breasts. Loose and warm and so thoroughly blissed out that your hands weakly press into globes of Bucky’s ass when he spills his completion between your parted lips.

He sinks to the bed in a sigh and pulls you against him. A brief moment of selfishness for his hands to relearn the dip of your spine and his lips to press against yours. Gentle now, grateful, pouring his weary satisfaction into you with the grind of your center over his thigh.

Searching fingers push the hair back from your neck and pepper kisses on the skin revealed. Tiny sucks, not enough to bruise, just to pull your boiling blood to just beneath the goosebumps on your skin.

A breathless chuckle into your temple. “I think Steve is impatient, baby.”

Not impatient. Ready. Heavy and twitching in your palm as Bucky rolls you over onto your back beneath Steve. The muscles of his body flexed in the pale blue light drifting in through translucent curtains. An Adonis, worshipping you with adoring eyes that pierce your heart and drag it up into your throat as he settles into the cradle of your hips with a sigh. Stiff against your lower belly.

Anything but impatient.

Elbows by your shoulders and thumbs nudging along your lax jaw. Liquid legs tangle with his and you toe his calves appreciatively for the way he suckles on your breast - a man dying of thirst. Your hand pushes along the bed until the familiar bite of cold soothes your flushed skin. Further up and then down until Bucky is in your hand, sated and soft but awakening with the brush of your thumb.

And you’re _”so tight”_ and it’s _"I love you, sweetheart”_ hot and humid against your neck. Arms snaking beneath your back and curling around your shoulders to hold you to the rock of him deep inside you. Pulling out the very essence of you and then pushing it back in in a dance timed to the keening cries you muffle in the tumble of his hair.

Steve is the rain following Bucky’s thunder. Smooth and gentle and filling your soul with glory that washes over you in a wave that crashes around him in the surge of your muscles.

Bucky captures your squeezing hand and leaves a featherlight kiss on your palm.

You’re lowered to the bed and draped over two bodies as thoroughly ruined by rapture as your own. Legs and arms and sleepy smiles and whispered words of devotion until sleep beckons you in the form of Steve’s heart slowing beneath your ear and Bucky’s even breaths warming the nape of your neck.


End file.
